Lady of Seduction (31 page)

Caroline doubted that, considering the terrible possibilities of what might wait in the city. If only she could keep him right
here, in this little cottage, for days and
weeks. He could rest, drink healing possets, put up his feet by the fire—and tell her everything she longed to know. He could
recover fully then.

But she knew he would never stay here, not for a moment longer than they had to. He was set on his course. They only had tonight,
alone together in this quiet place, the wind singing down the chimney and the fire dying down in the grate. One night to learn
all she could before he slipped away from her again.

She remembered his words, telling her she should go away with her sister to the countryside, that Anna could keep her safe.
Such concern for her sister, the woman he once planned to marry. Did he still think of her and see her as a part of that glittering
life he lost? Such a thought had dwelled in the back of her mind for years.

“There is one thing I have wondered,” she said.

He didn’t open his eyes, but a half-smile touched his lips. “Only one, Caro? I’m quite astonished.”

She whispered into his ear. “Were you in love with Anna when you were paying court to her?”

That question did make him open his eyes and look at her. “My dear, I didn’t even know your sister. Not really. So how could
I have been in love with her?”

“You wanted to marry her. There must have been a reason,” Caroline persisted. She had wondered this for a long time, ever
since she once sat on the edges of ballrooms and watched him dance with Anna, saw the flowers he had sent—and saw the fury
that exploded when she refused him for Conlan.

There had also been a part of her that didn’t want to know, not really. That part of their lives seemed so very distant now,
and that Grant was a man who no longer existed.

But that Grant would always be a part of him, no matter how buried. She had to know now, before there was any chance at all
of moving forward.

“Of course there was a reason,” he said. “Your sister was beautiful and your family an old and respected one in Anglo-Irish
society. She was so much sought-after then, and seen as a great prize, so of course I had to be the one to win her.” He gave
a rueful laugh. “And the fact that my hated cousin seemed to want her so much just made the pursuit all the better.”

“So she was your prize,” Caroline said. She felt so sad for her sister, and for Grant, too. A prize to be won. What prize
did he seek now?

“Caro, she was everything a man in my position needed in a wife, at least outwardly. No one could anticipate how deep that
Blacknall stubborn spirit ran, in all of you.” He gently twisted his fingers with hers, as if he thought she would pull away
from him. “I want to tell you something, if you will let me.”

She gave a reluctant nod. Had she not decided this was the time to learn about him—no matter what she found out? “Yes.”

“As you know, when my mother and I were turned out of Adair Court, she was heartbroken and terribly bitter. I promised her
I would become very rich and powerful one day, enough that I could give her the fine life she deserved—and to have revenge
on them for hurting her. I did that. I went to Trinity College, which never would have admitted me if I was a Catholic McTeer,
and there I made very useful connections that I could exploit in business and in Society. I did anything I had to do to make
a strong place for myself in the world.”

“Anything?” she whispered.

“Yes. I lied and cheated, and I schemed to bring my cousin down. And you know very well, I resorted to kidnapping. Even when
my mother died, I held to my promise. Your sister was only a part of all that. But I went further than I ever wanted when
I hurt you, and I’ll always be sorry for that.”

“But you are trying to make amends now! You hid
The Chronicle
away when you saw it had the potential to hurt your family. You took care of me.”

“Not as well as I should.” He slid down on the bed to gently touch the bandage on her bare leg.

“I would have been dead a dozen times over if not for you—starting with drowning on your beach.”

He kissed the soft curve of her knee, his teeth lightly nipping at her skin and making her gasp. His hand slid slowly up the
back of her leg.

“Grant,” she whispered hoarsely. “You’re hurt. We can’t do—this.”

“Shh,” he said against her skin. “It’s just a kiss.”

“It’s never ‘just a kiss’ with you and me,” she said. But as his mouth slid up the angle of her thigh, she fell back weakly
to the pillows. It
was
always like this when he touched her, kissed her, like a drop of alcohol meeting a flame and burning out of control. With
him alone did she ever feel such pure emotion and need. With him alone could she just let go and feel.

She wore only her loose shirt, and as he moved up her body, he grasped it by the hem and pulled it over her head. He sat back
on his heels and simply looked at her, studying her bare, pale skin, every curve, every freckle. Caroline felt suddenly shy,
unaccountably so since he
had already seen and kissed every inch of her. She was tempted to pull her long hair down to cover herself, but she couldn’t
move. She held her breath and stared down at him in the crackling, hot silence.

His gaze met hers, and in that instant, Caroline felt something deep and profound shift between them. They
saw
each other, they understood, and every breath and every heartbeat was like one. She loved him, as she could never love anyone
else. And that realization shook her deeply.

She reached out and gently touched his face. Those old scars were slightly rough under her hand, his skin warm. She wanted
to catch him in her arms and cling to him, to never let him go. She wanted this moment to be forever.

But the wind rattled the shutters outside, and she remembered the hard, cold world that waited for them. But they did have
tonight. That was hers and it could never be taken away.

He turned his face to kiss the hollow of her palm. Caroline felt a great rush of bittersweet tenderness, and she laid her
other hand on the tangled fall of his hair. She longed to say those life-changing words aloud—
I love you—
but her throat was too tight with unshed tears. She couldn’t bear it to know for certain he didn’t feel the same, couldn’t
stand to see pity in his eyes. This was her secret alone.

“Lay down beside me,” she whispered. She curled her fingers around his hand and urged him up onto the bed. He laid back on
the pillows, and she leaned over him to kiss his lips. Their mouths met softly at first but then desperately, full of the
hot rush of need for each other. He caught her around her hips and tried to roll her to the bed
beneath him, but she slid under his arm and eased away from him.

She rose above him on her knees and smoothed her touch over his bare chest, his flat nipples, the sharp line of his collarbone,
his strong shoulders. She had to memorize every inch of him, the feel and taste of him. She had to remember all of this.

He watched her with narrowed eyes, and she could feel how he held his breath. Trust was so foreign to him, but he let her
explore, let her do what she would. She unfastened his breeches and peeled them away from his hips, freeing his erect penis
to her soft touch. It was hard and soft at the same time, hot velvet stretched taut over iron, and she stroked it down to
its swollen tip.

She heard Grant’s breath catch in his throat. His hips twitched under her touch, and his hands tightened convulsively on her
waist as he dragged her closer.

He sat up and captured her nipple deep in his mouth, hard and hot and wet. Caroline cried out and wrapped her arms around
his shoulders as he rolled her nipple over his tongue and nipped at it with his teeth. His hand covered her other breast,
roughly caressing.

He shifted her so she sat on his lap, her legs around his waist as they rocked together.

She felt the roughness of his bandage as her hand slid down his chest, and she tried to pull away, afraid she would hurt him.
His mouth slid from her breast, but he wouldn’t let her go.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she whispered. “Your shoulder will bleed again.”

“It won’t,” he insisted. “And if it does I don’t care. I only want you.”

“And I want you.”

“Then forget everything, Caro,” he said against her neck. He nuzzled at the soft curve just above her shoulder. His breath
and lips were warm on her skin, and she shivered. Her eyes fluttered closed.

In the darkness behind her eyes, bright sparks of white and red exploded in the darkness as she reveled in the feel of his
body against hers, the friction of their damp, hot skin, the frantic need that built up inside her. He could always make her
feel that way.

In the sizzling darkness, she felt the press of his fingers against the wet seam of her womanhood, parting her for the heavy
thrust of his penis as he entered her. She arched her back to lift upward, sliding him even deeper into her, so deep it seemed
he touched her very soul.

She held him there until she
had
to move, had to reach for that hot, wondrous pleasure now, and their movements coordinated like a dance.

He moved faster and faster against her, calling out her name. She dug her heels into his back, reaching, reaching, until at
last she touched that brilliant, burning sun and shattered into a hundred sparkling pieces.

“Grant!” she sobbed. And he held her in his arms as they fell to the bed, entwined and gasping for breath. “Grant, Grant.”

Inexplicably, she burst into tears. Such beauty was too fragile, too fleeting, and her heart ached with it all.

Grant cradled her against his chest as she sobbed, his caress a soothing, soft motion on her hair. He said nothing, which
was a good thing for she had no explanations for her tears. She had no words for anything at all.

At last the storm was spent, and her body grew heavy
with exhaustion. She held on to Grant as she slid deeper and deeper into dark sleep.

“My beautiful Caroline,” she heard him whisper as she slipped into darkness. “I will make everything right for you again,
I promise. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

But maybe those words were all in her dreams.

A
re you sure you can ride today?” Caroline asked worriedly. She watched as Grant saddled their horses outside the cottage.
He seemed to be moving well enough, but she feared he was also moving too carefully. She felt a bit guilty for their night
of lovemaking.

Grant merely laughed. “That wasn’t a concern last night, was it? I rode well enough then.”

Caroline felt her cheeks grow hot as she remembered just how very agile he had been the previous night. “We should at least
wait until this afternoon, so you can rest for a while longer. If it starts to bleed again…”

“It won’t. You bandaged it too tightly this morning.” He left the horses and came to her, laying his hands on her shoulders.
He gently kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve had the very best of nurses.”

“The best nurse would have made you sleep last night without—you know.”

“Seducing me?” He grinned down at her. “Believe me, that was the best medicine possible. I feel entirely well today.”

Caroline carefully peeled back the edge of his shirt to check the new bandages she had applied just before they packed up
their belongings. The white linen was blessedly free from any spot of blood. There were no red streaks of infection on his
skin.

“Very well,” she said. “But I insist we stop early for the night. No pressing on to Dublin until tomorrow.”

“We’ll see,” he answered. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Caroline glanced once more at the little cottage. So very much had happened there that she hated to leave
it so soon to jump back into the real world. But that world would not wait.

Grant helped her into her saddle before finding his own mount, and they galloped away from the little clearing. She didn’t
look back again.

The road from Hakley Hall that led to Dublin was usually a busy one. Caroline’s family often took a stretch of it when they
traveled from Killinan to the city, and it always seemed crowded with farm carts, lumbering travel berlins, and young rakes
roaring along in their high-perch phaetons, especially in the summer like now. But they met only a few vehicles, which passed
them hastily and left them alone again.

It seemed everyone hid out in their houses, waiting for—something. Even the pale blue sky overhead seemed empty and silent.

Grant’s good mood faded into tense watchfulness, and they spoke very little as they rode onward. They glimpsed Hakley Hall
from a distance as they passed on a ridge, and the stolid gray stone house was still shuttered and quiet, as it was when they
stopped yesterday. There were
no cows or sheep in the meadows, and very few workers in the ripe summer fields.

The other houses they passed, Ballyornen and Pierce Court, where Caroline had often gone visiting with her mother when she
was a girl, were just as quiet. Had they gone to Dublin or sought passage to England as so many had done in ’98? That sense
of fearful waiting was the same as she remembered from those days.